T5 

2702 
.352 




Class PS ^ 70 2- 



I'liKSKNTHl) liY 




_ (^ft^wt*^ "W^fet^'^^gw. 




Berder PublishinO Company 
^ Buffalo* ^ ^ 

c N.Y. 



MY doctcrn is to lay aside 
Contensions, and be satisfied : 
Jest do your best, and praise er blame 
That foUers that, counts jest the same. 
My Philosofy. 

Then God smiled and it was morning. 

Leonainie. 

As it's give' me to perceive, 

I most certin'y believe 
When a mans jist glad plum through, 

God's pleased with him, same as 

you. 

Neghborly Poems, 

Alius a-reachin' out, Jim was, and 
a^he'pin' some 
Pore feller onto his feet — 
He'd a^never a-keered how hungry 
he was hisse'f . 
So's the feller got somepin to eatl 
."^ :: Jim. 



Copyright, 1907, by Berger Publishing ^Companj^ 






-^'-^\k>6^v 



OLOVE is like an untamed steed 1 
So hot of heart 

and wild of speed. 
And with fierce freedom so in love. 
The desert is not vast enough. 
With all its leagues of glimmering 
sands. 

To pasture it I 

Bedouin. 

The fairest scenes wc ever see 
Are miratges of memory ; 
The sweetest thoughts we ever know 
We plagiarize from Long-ago. 

Orhe Wilde. 

"Whatever the weather may be," 
says he — 

" Whatever the weather may be. 

It's the songs ye sing, an' the smiles 
ye wear. 

That's a-makin' the sun shine every- 
where." 

Says He. 




'*<^ I IE is my friend," I said,— 

* ^ "Be patient ! " Overhead 

The skies \A^ere drear and dim ; 

And lo ! ihe thought of him 

Smiled on my heart — and then 

The sun shone out again 1 

My FrieKd. 

We aire not always glad when we 

smile, — 

For the heart, in a tempest of pain, 

May live in the guise 

Of a smile in the eyes 

As a rainboNA/ may live in the rain ; 

And the storrraest night of our woe 

May hang out a radiant star 

Whose light in the sky 

Of despair is a lie 

As black as the thunder- clouds are 
Spirk and Wunk Rhymes, 



THERE is ever a song some^ 
where, my dear,— 
There is ever a something sings 
alway. 
There's the song of the lark when 
the skies arc clear. 
And the song of the thrush when 
the skies are gray. 
There is Ever a Song Somewhere. 

O the days gone by! O the days 

gone by I 
The music of the laughing lip, the 

lustre of the eye 
The childish faith in fairies and 

Alladdin's magic ring — 
The simple, soul- reposing, glad belief 

in everything.— 
When life was like a story, holding 

neither sob nor sigh. 

In the golden, olden glory of the days 

gone by. 

The Days Gone By. 




WAIT for the morning :— It will 
come indeed. 
As surely as the night hath given need. 
The yearning eyes, at last, will strain 

their sight 
No more unanswered by the morning 

light; 
No longer will they vainly strive, 

through tears. 
To pierce the darkness of thy doubts 

and fears. 
But, bathed in balmy dews and rays 

of dawn. 
Will smile with rapture o'er the 

darkness drawn. 

JVaii for the Morning. 



I've alius noticed grate success 
Is mixed with troubles, more or less. 
And it's the man who does the best 
That gits more kicks than all the rest. 
My Philosofy — Neghborly Poems. 



OH! the old s\A/immin''hole! In 
the happy days of yore. 
When I ust to lean above it on the 

old sickamore, 
Oh! it showed me a face, in its 

warm, sunny tide. 
That gazed back at me so gay and 

glorified. 
It made me love myself, as I leaped 

to caress 
My shadder smilin up at me with 

sich tenderness. 
But them days is past and gone, and 

old Time's tuck his toll 
From the old man come back to the 

old swimmin 'hole. 

The Old Swimmin^ -Hole. 

He was warned ag'inst the wontern^ 
She was warned ag'inst the man,^ 

And if that won't make a weddin', 
W'y, they's nothin' else that can ! 
On a Splendud Match. 



OTHE rain and the sun, and the 
sun and the rain I 
r When the tempest is done, then the 
I sunshine again ; 

And in rapture we'll ride through the 

stormiest gales. 
For God's hand's on the helm and 
His breath in the sails. 

Then murmur no more. 
In lull or in roar. 
But smile and be brave till the voyage 

is o'er. 

A Song of the Cruise. 

For, we know, not every morrow 

Can be sad ; 
So, forgetting all the sorrow 

We have had. 

Let us fold away our fears. 

And put by our foolish tears. 

And through all the coming years 

Just be glad. 

Kissing the Rod. 



^ti^S^^^^^ 



yyV /HO'S got the lovin eye, and 
V V heart and brain 
To recko'nize 'at nothin's made in 

vain — 
'At the Good Bein' made the bees 

and birds 

And brutes first choice, and us-folks 

afterwards ! 

Ft oetn— Poems Here at Home, 



Now Love's as cunnin a little thing 
As a hummingbird upon the wing. 
And as liable to poke his nose 
Jest where folks would least suppose. 
Squire Hawkins's Story, 



My mother she's so good to mc, 
Ef I was good as I could be, 
1 couldn't be as good — no, sir /— 
Can't any boy be good as her I 

A Boys Mother. 



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